


that thing with hugging, i think it's called snuggles?

by popoyoy11



Series: good habits [6]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Bat Family, Crack, Fluff and Crack, Gen, Other, Sort Of, and turn into an actual story with a storyline and everything, by all means this fic doesnt make much sense, crack with a plot, it's just convos that i'm too lazy to put more effort into
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:50:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,727
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/popoyoy11/pseuds/popoyoy11
Summary: “Oh, hey,” Duke looks surprised to see Jason lounging in the kitchen. His eyes are wide and he just stops mid-stride, foot not even planted on the ground yet. This isn’t normal. Jason is usually there only before and after patrols and cases, in the wee hours of 3 am instead of 3pm.





	that thing with hugging, i think it's called snuggles?

**Author's Note:**

> this is just crack pure crack nothing more nothing less, even if it still does exist within the good habits universe. the next chapter will be added in the next... month. probably.

“Can you like, move?”

“No.”

Tim pushes at Jason’s covered shoulder. “Jaayysonn.”

Jason very grudgingly pokes his head out of the cocoon of blanket he’s made for himself, and glares Tim’s hands away. “What? Quit whining, you’re twenty for God’s sake.”

Tim stares at him with his hands on his hips, pouting like that’ll do anything to move Jason.

“Move, I want to snuggle.”

Jason considers this, he really does. He blinks at Tim, once, twice, and ducks back into the warm duvet.

“Jason!” He smacks Jason’s covered back. “Share or I’ll get Damian here!”

“So?” Jason’s muffled voice asks. “I’m not scared of the little shit, bring him on.”

“No, Jason, _Jason,_ you don’t understand. He’s fifteen now. He’s _officially_ a teenager, he gets _angsty._ All he does now is listen to _My Chemical Romance_ and _Simple Plan_.”

Jason pulls his head back up again and frowns at Tim, who’s still standing at the edge of the bed with his hands on his hips. “Hey, MCR and Simple Plan are legit. Don’t shame pop punk like this.”

Tim rolls his eyes. “Jason, he _feels_ the songs.”

Jason cringes. “Ew, okay, fine.” He shifts a little. “Go close the door first.”

Tim beams at him, quickly pattering to close the door. Jason shuffles from his place in the middle of the bed, rolling a little to give Tim some of the duvet. Tim rolls into the bed, gets under the covers and curls himself into a ball, his head going under the whole thing. Jason feels Tim’s back against his and can’t help a little smile at Tim’s content sigh. He’s got most of his upper body out of it now, actually sleeping like a normal person.

“I don’t get why you can’t just sleep in your own room,” Jason starts, pulling the covers back up to his chin again. He likes it better that way after all.

Tim mumbles something Jason can’t hear.

“What?”

“I said,” Tim repeats, “smells different in there,” he continues, popping his head up. “It smells better here, right?”

“Huh,” Jason contemplates, turning around in the bed so he could see Tim. “I guess? I mean I’m doing this as a sort of ‘stick-it-to-the-man’ gesture.”

Tim raises an eyebrow. “You sleep in Bruce’s bed to ‘stick-it-to-him’.”

“Well if you put it that way it just sounds weird.”

Tim rolls his eyes.

“Hey _you’re_ one to roll your eyes.”

Tim tries to shrug. “Like I said, smells better in here.”

“Huh,” and that’s the last thing Jason remember before he falls asleep.

-

“I think I know why we don’t like to sleep in our rooms when we come here,” Jason says to Tim, a week later, also in Bruce’s bedroom. He won’t call the Manor home. Because it’s not. Hasn’t been in a while.

Tim yawns, he’s already got his suit pants off and only half of his suit jacket off him. “And why’sat?”

“It doesn’t feel like our room, right?” He asks. Tim doesn’t live here anymore either, he hasn’t since he became Red Robin.

“Hrrngh.” Comes Tim’s smart reply next to him, the man’s already got his head buried into the pillow, his breathing quickly softening.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jason replies.

-

Jason tries to minimize visiting the Manor when Bruce is around. He also always times his sleep visits carefully, so that he comes by exactly when Bruce is out (the man’s been out a lot lately, maybe Jason should check on what case he’s working). Jason’s been coming every week this month because it’s summer. Classes are over, and caseloads are pretty light right now, and he’s working a job in the local library. The Manor is supposed to be empty today, so when there’s already a big lump under the blanket when he walks in, Jason stops in his tracks.

He sighs, already turned to leave just as he hears a soft snore.

Bruce doesn’t snore.

Jason tiptoes towards the bed and pulls the blanket down a little.

Half of Dick’s sleeping face meets him, he pulls the covers down a little further and sees that Tim is also underneath the blanket, cuddling his big brother close and looking generally at peace with life.

Heck, this is kind of cute.

“Ew,” Jason frowns at the thought.

He slides off his leather jacket carefully and hangs it behind a chair. He goes around to the other side of the bed and carefully as not to jostle the bed too much, lies down and sleeps.

-

“We should do something about, this, right?”

“Why, though?” Dick yawns around his words, stretching his arms up, joints and bones popping and cracking.

“I don’t know,” Jason answers, looking up, “why are you sleeping here, instead of your own room?”

“Hm,” Dick hums, adjusting the pillows behind him so it becomes even more of a mountain of softness he can lean on, “can’t sleep in my old room.”

Jason doesn’t say anything to that, it’s not surprising anymore.

“Hhnngggsgrf,” Tim mumbles unintelligibly between them.

Dick grins and reaches out to softly ruffles Tim’s hair, Jason half-heartedly wishes Dick still does that to him.

“Me too, Timbo, me too,” Dick replies.

-

When next time Cass joins them also, Jason gets up and snatches the blanket from everyone.

“That’s it, we have to make our rooms habitable.”

Cass just stares at him and puts her thumb on the corner of her throat, and drags a very long, slow line across it.

-

They start with Dick’s room. Cass insists on doing it based on age, and also insists that she’s older than Jason.

Nobody has the facts to deny her, so they go along with it.

They’re standing on the entrance of Dick’s old room, it looks untouched, like any other standard room in the manor. Alfred does clean things up whenever a kid moves out, and Dick brought all of his stuff to ‘haven anyway.

“Now why can’t you sleep here?” Jason asks.

Dick scratches the back of his head. “Hm.” He answers smartly.

Cass goes further into the room and throws herself on the bed, bouncing off of it once before settling. She frowns and pats the bed. “Hard.”

“The bed?” Tim asks, looking around.

Cass nods.

“I don’t think it’s that,” Dick answers, “my bed in ‘haven is harder than that, it’s just—” he trails off, slumping. “I have no idea why I can’t sleep in my old room now.”

Jason crosses his arms in front of his chest and leans on the doorframe. Dick shuffles a little bit inside after Tim and starts opening drawers. It’s filled with spare clothes, but other than that, nothing much.

“I think I know why we can’t sleep in our own rooms,” Tim speaks up.

“Yeah? Why?” Jason asks.

“It’s impersonal, isn’t it? It’s not ours anymore,” he continues, staring at a piece of home décor. Jason thinks it’s some kind of wooden horse. “Doesn’t smell like us anymore. Doesn’t feel—safe. Anymore.”

“You’ve got a point there, lil bro,” Dick agrees.

Cass nods from where she is on the bed.

“That doesn’t explain why we all can sleep in Bruce’s room, though,” Jason points out.

A corner of Dick’s mouth ticks up minutely.

Cass smirks, giggles—which slowly develops into a full-blown laugh.

Tim stares at Jason as if he’s dumb.

Jason is silent for a beat, but then he snorts, joining Cass in laughter, even if his is a bit more hysterical than hers.

Right, _it smells like Bruce, and Bruce is safe_. Even to _him._

Jesus.

Jason rubs a hand over his face. “Ah, fuck.” He sighs. “That’s too much emotional baggage to unpack right now.”

“Yep,” Tim answers, popping the p.

“What do we do now?” Jason asks.

Tim shrugs. “I guess we just have to ask Bruce for his bedroom.”

-

“We’d like to have your bedroom.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“We’d like your bedroom.”

“And who are, ‘we’?”

“Me. Jason. Dick. Cass.”

“Why does it have to be my room?”

“Smells like you.”

“That doesn’t sound weird at all, and completely important. Why are we talking about this? You are not getting my room.”

“C’mon, Bruce, we can’t sleep if it’s not in your room.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yeah, so is your fursuit.”

“It’s—it’s not a fursuit.”

“Bruce, give us your room or I won’t stop calling it a fursuit for the rest of my life.”

“What—Tim. No. You all have perfectly good rooms.”

Tim groans. “No, we don’t! Unless you’d like to sleep in all of it first? A couple of times in each?”

“Tim.”

“I’m not giving up, we’re stealing your room. Dick is making a fortress out of it as we speak.”

“What? Tim! Stop running! Come back here!”

-

“Hey, man.”

“Oh, hey,” Duke looks surprised to see Jason lounging in the kitchen. His eyes are wide and he just stops mid-stride, foot not even planted on the ground yet. This _isn’t_ normal. Jason _is_ usually there only before and after patrols and cases, in the wee hours of 3 am instead of 3pm.

The boy stands in the doorway and doesn’t advance.

Jason kicks out a chair next to him. “Here,” he gestures to the plate in front of him. “I made some brownies.”

Duke doesn’t move. “Um.”

Jason raises his eyebrows. “It’s not poisoned, I swear.”

He’s hesitant but he takes a step inside, he doesn’t sit, just grabs something from a cupboard and stares at the plate of brownies. His movements are stiff.

Jason should probably stop staring at him.

Really.

It’s kind of funny to see him scared like this though, so maybe later.

“So, um,” Duke starts, clutching whatever pack of snack he took in front of his chest, his eyes flitting around anywhere but Jason.

“Yeah?”

“I heard there’s a war going on over rooms? And I just want everybody to know that I’m not siding with anyone? And that if I eat your brownies it doesn’t mean anything?”

Jason nods. “Sure.”

He reaches out tentatively and takes three pieces, stacking two on top of the Oreo pack he took, and biting into the one he’s holding.

He sighs contently. “Man, you’re good at baking.”

“Thanks.”

Duke gives him a small smile and lifts the bitten brownie at him. “Goodluck with the thing,” he says, “I hope nobody dies.”

Jason grins.

“So do I.”

**Author's Note:**

> nevertheless, i'd like you to comment still, and contact me! I'm still on tumblr!
> 
> tumblr: poythefloat  
> dc sideblog: sneakytimmytime  
> twitter: cryingingotham


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